The Soldier and His Captain
by MoonlitePage
Summary: Bucky thought being away from HYDRA would stop it, the occasional state of mind that made pain and serving pleasurable. He was wrong. But lucky for him, his Captain knows what to do. Post CA:WS - Stucky - StevexBucky - Dominant Steve - Submissive Winter Soldier Bucky - Designation Verse - BDSM
1. Warnings and Triggers

This story has adult material! Exact warning/triggers/all that are down below. If you don't care then just move on to the next chapter.

Also, this story was inspired by DobbyRocksSocks "One Step At A Time" here on and I got the concept of the Designation Verse from him/her so go check out the story here (or just search for it): s/13177564/1/One-Step-At-A-Time

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**-Triggers:**

-Blood

-Self inflicted wounds

-Minorly mentions PTSD in chapters 4, 5, and 6

**-NOTE:** While there is technically nothing explicit in this story it deals directly with BDSM including dominance/submission, sadomasochism, and bondage.


	2. Part One

Bucky knew what it meant when it started. It was little things at first, like getting coffee for someone when asked without thinking twice. But it quickly grew stronger. The inherent desire to give in when someone asked something of him (especially Steve and Thor, he noticed). To submit to their demands. To let someone else control him. To _obey_. He hated it and had hoped that being away from HYDRA would stop it. But of course he was never so lucky.

He was pretty proud; he held out for five days before he couldn't stand it anymore. As soon as dinner was done he slipped away. It would give him the most time (until tomorrow morning, when he had training) to do what he needed to do. Only Steve noticed his exit and Bucky could only offer him a slight shrug and mouthed 'not tonight'. Steve didn't look happy, but nodded anyway. That look of concern, a little too close to disappoint, cut more than Bucky thought it could. But he went to his room anyway.

"JARVIS, blackout and lockdown my room, would you? Soundproofed, no cameras, no one comes in, nothing recorded." He requested. The tint on the windows turned black and the camera in the corner shut off with a simple change in light color from red to green. His other requests held no outward signs of being fulfilled but he trusted JARVIS to follow through. He always did.

"This is unusual. May I ask why you wish for such extreme privacy this evening, sergeant?" JARVIS questioned, polite as always. It was a little soothing; JARVIS's voice was one of the few right now that didn't make him twitchy. Probably because there wasn't an ounce of demand or insistence behind anything he said.

Bucky kept his sigh soft as he moved over to his combat bag. There were a lot of fun toys in it (Bucky loved modern century weapons), but he wasn't in a fun mood and simply grabbed a knife set. "Something from HYDRA. J, you cannot let anyone in and do not alert anyone, okay? I know what's going on and I know how to deal with it. My vitals will probably fluctuate. It's fine; I have it under control, but you cannot let anyone in." He ordered. His usual sharp edge was gone from his tone. Just another clue towards how much he needed this right now.

"Sergeant…" There was a long pause during which Bucky stripped his clothing off. After a moment of staring at the bed he ducked into the bathroom instead. "Unless I believe your life is in danger I will do as you request, however sir, I am very concerned. This is highly unusual behavior."

Bucky nodded, satisfied with that. He knew he couldn't convince JARVIS to not contact anyone, no matter what, like he wanted, so it would have to do. "Thanks, J." He offered quietly before he took a seat in the bathtub. He opened the knife kit and quickly checked them (all clean and sharp) before he stopped fighting the itch in his brain.

The first wave wasn't bad; he didn't even need to go for the knives yet though his metal hand was clenching his leg hard enough to bruise. The next wave came quicker and this one he snatched up one of the knives, cutting careful slits over the thin scars already on his thighs. The pain both helped and didn't. Things got a bit hazy for a while, as they always did, and when he was able to recenter himself a little he winced.

He had three daggers stuck into his thighs, two in the left and one in the right. He didn't even remember the third going in. There was blood everywhere, of course, and Bucky absently thought he had made a smart call doing this in the bathtub. Much easier to clean up. "Sir? Are you alright?" JARVIS asked, probably not for the first time, and Bucky nodded. This was the first time he could ever recall hearing the AI sound so genuinely concerned.

"For the moment, but it'll come back. Usually lasts a few hours." He offered breathlessly. Without his haziness the daggers just hurt, but he waited it out. Soon enough it would be back and then it would feel, well, at least better.

"May I ask what you are referring to? Why you are doing this?" JARVIS questioned.

"Cause it's the only way to stop it." He replied softly. He could feel _it_ creeping back into his system and twisted one of the knives. The jolt was both grounding and not but, after a blissful moment of lightheaded almost euphoria, it kept him from being swept away into the haze.

"What is 'it', sir?" JARVIS asked. Bucky was starting to feel kind of float-y and wondered if the cause was just blood loss or if it was the junk in his brain that made him have to stab knives into his legs to feel like he had any control over his own body.

"Don't know. HYDRA said it was to make sure I was subservient enough. So that I wouldn't forget my place. It made… serving them, being hurt by them, feel almost... good, sometimes. In a way. I thought it'd be gone since they aren't around but... Anyway, the pain helps." Bucky was pretty sure the blood loss was getting to him a little. It explained why he was so breathlessly rambling and why he didn't want to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time.

He twisted another knife and pushed it in a little deeper. The flash of pain made him groan but it wasn't strictly from pain. It also sent a jolt of pleasure through him, as it always did, and pulled him back into the present. "Sergeant, I believe you were lied to." JARVIS announced suddenly and it made Bucky let go of the knife, relieving the pain that was finally starting to feel good.

"Wouldn't surprise me." He admitted through grit teeth, but now he was getting really float-y. The only things grounding him was the pain and JARVIS. Who knew an AI could sound so comforting? But it felt great, to just let go. To stop caring what happened to him and just sort of exist in the moment.

"Sir." JARVIS's voice, unusually sharp, brought him back from that almost out of body head space. "This is not HYDRA's work. You are aware of Designations?" JARVIS asked.

_"What does that have to do with anything?"_ Was what he wanted to ask but instead all he managed was a vague noise version of 'yes'. Having someone talk to him while he felt like this was really, really wonderful, actually, he realized.

"According to my records, you are a Submissive, and I believe you are in need of a drop." JARVIS informed him. And Bucky knew what those words meant, he promised he did, but right now his brain just couldn't put itself together long enough to parse it out.

"Huh?" Was about all he managed out loud.

"Please, allow me to contact Captain Rogers." JARVIS said.

"No!" The thought of Steve seeing him like this made Bucky try to get up. A bit too quickly and while he didn't quite fall completely over, he did slip on the pool of blood and end up laying on his stomach halfway out of the tub. His legs, his arms (even the metal one), hell his whole body had suddenly turned to jelly and the world was tipping dangerously end over end around him.

And all the while JARVIS kept talking. "He is a Dominant and, especially given your past history together, the best suited currently to assist you."

"Can't see me like this." Bucky managed to say. "Not him."

JARVIS sounded almost indignant. "Sergeant, you are in need of his assistance." It wasn't a request. Or maybe it was, but Bucky's mind didn't care anymore. It sounded like a command and that sent a shiver down his spine a thousand times more pleasurable than anything the knives had ever been able to. He couldn't even consider saying no.

"Yes" was mumbled out of his mouth before he realized it. A short period of time passed, in which there was silence aside from a dripping sound Bucky was pretty sure was his blood. He also hadn't realized how much he craved another body or even just another voice nearby when he felt like this. Someone firm to give him order; someone he could trust to take care of him. It was so lonely without any other noise and he really didn't like it. "JARVIS?" He finally whimpered.

"I am here, sergeant, and the captain will be here momentarily." JARVIS promised.

"Captain…" Bucky mumbled absentmindedly. He wanted to see the captain. Steve. Steve was the Captain. His Captain. He shifted off the edge of the tub and nearly fell trying to sit back. He stared at the knives in his legs for a few moments. He had put them there. Not his Captain. Why? He wasn't supposed to punish himself. That was his Captain's choice.

So he pulled them out. It was tricky, even with his metal hand, because everything was slick with blood. But he managed it. Leaving them in the tub he slowly got up. His legs really hurt. They shouldn't hurt like this, even if he was being punished. He couldn't say how he knew, since HYDRA certainly hadn't had any problem with causing him serious pain as a punishment, but he knew it wasn't right. He managed two steps out of the tub before his knees gave out.

Luckily someone was there to catch him. "Jesus Christ, Bucky, what did you do?" His Captain. His Captain was here. Bucky grabbed at his clothes almost desperately. He couldn't think of anything else to make sure he wasn't left alone again. He was also pretty sure the whining was coming from him. "JARVIS?"

"I believe the sergeant has not had a proper drop since his fall in the 1940's. He believed his submissive needs were from HYDRA and likely used this method to counteract the need for a Dominant until now." JARVIS informed him.

Bucky didn't care anymore about JARVIS. His Captain was here and he'd be taken care of. That was all he needed. He nuzzled closer to the warmth and the arms holding him tightened. "God, Buck, why didn't you tell me?" His Captain mumbled.

A question. His Captain had asked him a question. He had to answer, but he didn't understand the question. Didn't tell him what? His lips didn't work quite right anymore so all that came out was a garbled confused noise.

"No, no, hush, shh. It's okay. You're okay. I've got you, my good soldier." He was assured and immediately those words let him, the soldier, relax. He had been praised so he must be doing something right. He was moved, placed on his back on the floor and finally he was able to see his Captain. He looked a little more tired, maybe, but it was him. The same sunlit hair and beautiful blue eyes Bucky could drown in. But why was he so worried? He didn't like seeing his Captain upset.

He didn't manage to form an actual word with his voice as he traced the slight frown on his Captain's lips (leaving a streak of blood that looked horribly out of place and wrong), but his nonsensical noise was apparently enough because those lips shifted into a faint smile. His Captain caught his human hand, still wet with blood, and kissed his fingers. The action made him shiver with delight.

"Now listen up, soldier." Immediately the soldier's full attention was on his Captain and he waited eagerly for whatever order was to come. "You are going to lay very still, right here, until I say so. Is that clear?"

Yes. God, yes. A thousand times yes. He was going to do exactly that, even if he lay here for the rest of his life. "Yes, sir." He managed to mumble somewhat coherently and that put a genuine smile on his Captain's face, before it shifted into a slight smirk.

"Good." His Captain stood then and moved away out of his field of view. He didn't even move his head to watch. He heard things, a cupboard opening, and then felt someone shifting his leg gently. He bit down the whimper the movement caused. "JARVIS, any nicked arteries?"

"No, Captain. The sergeant's aim is quite exceptional. He only appears to be suffering from blood loss." JARVIS answered, but it felt distant. Unnecessary. So did the little pinpricks of discomfort and pain that came from the wounds on his legs, but it was alright. His Captain was allowed to hurt him; he enjoyed it even.

The worse pain, that he had caused, slowly faded and then his Captain was back in his sight, kneeling next to him. His now bloody fingers were gentle as they ran down the soldier's cheek. "Alright, soldier. Tell me if this hurts too much." He was told before his Captain picked him up.

It hurt, it really did, but too much? No, he could and would handle this much pain to obey his Captain. And so he was carried back into the bedroom without a word and placed gently on the bed. He lay still, as he had not been given permission to move yet, and his Captain placed pillows under his legs to raise them. That was when he noticed the bandages around the three places where he had stabbed himself. It made him feel warm. He knew his Captain would take care of him.

His Captain took a seat near his shoulder, his fingers gently stroking the soldier's face. It was incredibly soothing and he couldn't help leaning into the touch. The action got a little chuckle from his Captain, which sent a thrill through his body. He had pleased his Captain. Good.

The warm expression faded slowly into a more serious one. He knew that look. Whatever his Captain was about to say was important and so he listened. He didn't have to wait for long. "Alright, soldier." It was hard to sit at attention while lying still in bed, but he tried. If nothing else the soldier gave his Captain his full attention. "What you did in there with the knives? That does not happen again."

"No, sir. I'm sorry, Captain." He whispered, promised, and his Captain's expression softened.

"Good. God, I was scared. Seeing all that blood. I was _so_ scared seeing you hurt like that and thinking maybe I hadn't made it in time." He said softly and Bucky really wanted to touch him.

"Permission to move my arm, sir?" He asked softly and got a nod. Bucky reached up and after wetting his fingers in his mouth did he best to wipe away the blood on his Captain's face. That did put a genuine gentle smile on his Captain's face, one that warmed him from the inside out.

The Captain kissed his fingers again before he stated; "Alright, soldier." He snapped to attention immediately. "I want you to rest, and at least try to sleep, while I clean up and get some things ready. Understood?" It was definitely an order and already the soldier could feel his eyes growing heavy.

"Yes, sir." He replied obediently. His Captain gently laid down his hand gently and covered him with a blanket before kissing his forehead.

"My good soldier." He purred in a tone that sent a warmth through the soldier's body that had nothing to do with the blanket and it was that wave of warmth that pulled him into sleep.


	3. Part Two

Steve couldn't get up from where he was seated next to Bucky for several minutes. His hands, still red, shook like he never remembered and all he kept seeing was Bucky, bleeding heavily from three _self-inflicted_ stab wounds clinging to the bathroom wall with bloody hands and practically glazed eyes. Right before he had collapsed. It had probably taken years off Steve's life.

Bucky didn't even stir when Steve stood (and of course he wouldn't; it may have been more than fifty years, but Bucky's submissive side had always belonged to Steve alone and he was Steve's good soldier). "How are his vitals, JARVIS?" Steve asked softly as he mentally prepared himself to go into the bathroom.

"Stabilizing quickly, sir." JARVIS answered.

"Thank God. And thank you, JARVIS, for sending me up here." Steve added as he finally moved into the bathroom. JARVIS had already ran water to clear away the blood from inside the tub, thankfully, but there was still plenty around. The dripped trail from Bucky's attempt at walking, the smeared hand prints on the walls, even a small pool from where he had lain while Steve tended to him. And the knives themselves. Still resting in the tub, the metal shimmering.

"I was happy to do it, sir. It was… difficult to watch the sergeant like that." He admitted, and that took Steve by surprise. It was rare the AI admitted to having emotions quite so openly, especially about anyone other than Tony.

"I can't believe I didn't even think about it." Steve started saying as he got to work cleaning. "That he is still a submissive after all this time and would still need to go into the head space. That he might not even know about it anymore. That must make me the world's worst Dom, to forget that my own sub would need to drop."

"Regardless of your own mistakes, captain, it was not your fault that Sergeant Barnes had been lied to and did not believe it was something he could ask for help with." JARVIS reminded.

His heart wasn't really in it, but he meant it sincerely when he said "Thanks, J." He sighed heavily at the trash can which was piling up with bloody paper towels. "Is there anything you can tell me about what happened? What lies HYDRA fed him?"

"My understanding is limited only to what he told me while struggling with his drop. He said that HYDRA told him it was another part of his programming, to 'insure he was subservient enough' and 'knew his place'." It amazed Steve that he knew, without any other clues, when JARVIS was quoting Bucky. And he couldn't help the possessive rage that rushed to the surface at the thought of someone else using _his_ sub during a drop.

"Any guess as to why he stabbed himself?" Steve asked, trying to shake off the possessiveness. He failed, miserably, but that was okay for the moment.

"He is a masochist submissive, correct?" JARVIS asked and Steve nodded. "The pain did seem to offer him some measure of relief and without a trusted Dominant around it may have been his only option." Steve was glad HYDRA was basically gone already or he might have done something that would tarnish Captain America's reputation. And he didn't feel even the slightest bit guilty for thinking about it. "Captain, Sir is asking if everything is alright."

Steve paused at that. What should he tell Tony and the others? He and Bucky would need at least a few days in relative isolation (he fully intended to keep Bucky in his submissive head space for that period; they _both_ needed it). And any excuses he could come up with would only worry the others more than necessary. He slipped back into the bedroom and leaned against the wall.

Bucky was still deep asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. The bandages would need to be changed soon, Steve could see the blood beginning to seep through, but there was a little more color in Bucky's face. Steve felt some of his lingering fear finally fade. Bucky was healing, would heal, and he would never let Bucky get into subspace by himself ever again.

"Tell them... the truth. Tell them that because of HYDRA Bucky had forgotten about his Designation. That I'm taking care of him and we need a few days of privacy, but he should be just fine." Steve finally said.

"As you wish, sir." JARVIS answered politely before he fell silent. The silence in the room was almost overbearing, but he could hear Bucky breathing which was hugely comforting. Slowly Steve slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor and he buried his face in his hands. Then finally the tears fell.

"God, Buck, I'm so sorry." He whispered. With his eyes closed all he could see was their lives together before the modern century.

Most guys of the time who had been Designated subs were furious. They thought it was weaker, somehow, even though there was nothing against subs joining the army or doing anything else they wanted to do (as long as their Dom didn't mind). Bucky had accepted it with a shrug, a smirk, and a promise to cause his Dom all kinds of trouble in the future. Steve had a neutral Designation, before the serum anyway, and Bucky never made any effort to find a Dom; he preferred looking after Steve and said it was enough for him.

And then Steve became a Dom, and he knew without question who he wanted as his sub. He wanted to repay Bucky for all the years his friend had spent looking after him. He wanted Bucky's trouble and snarkiness and sass. And for a few glorious months, after Azzano, they had it. Steve was Bucky's Captain and Bucky was his soldier. A perfect compliment, in the bedroom or on the battlefield.

The Howling Commandos hadn't cared in the slightest that Bucky was a sub; he was the best marksman and sergeant on the front line and was a great balance to their Neutral and Top heavy group. He helped keep them on track and diffused the tension when things ran too hot. If Steve was the father, then Bucky was definitely the mother of the Commandos and that suited them all just fine. And then Bucky fell and Steve knew he would never, could never, have another sub.

A groan from the bed pulled Steve from his thoughts like a gunshot had gone off in the room. He was on his feet in an instant and by Bucky's side before he even began to stir. Bucky mumbled something garbled that Steve thought may have been his name.

"Right here." He promised and Bucky's eyes opened. They were unseeing at first and he had to blink a few times before he was able to focus on Steve. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

Bucky had to consider it for a few moments. He was obviously in one of his more lucid moments of the drop, since Steve's soldier wouldn't have paused. But that was just fine too. "Float-y." Bucky finally whispered and Steve smiled at him.

"It's alright, Buck. You don't have to fight it. I'll take care of you. You trust me to do that, don't you?" Steve asked, lowering his voice to a pitch that he knew would cause a reaction. It did: Bucky's whole body shivered and his breath hitched.

"Yes." Bucky agreed breathlessly and Steve smiled wider. He leaned in close and start placing gentle kisses on Bucky's face, his ears, his neck.

"Then let go, my brave soldier, and let your captain take care of you." He ordered with a purr. Another shiver wracked Bucky's body and his eyes had dilated almost impressively.

"Yes, please, Captain." Bucky pleaded almost desperately and the tone. The name. Every bit of it sent a thrill through Steve's body like he hadn't felt in ages. It was the thing he didn't think he'd ever hear again and god, he hadn't realized how much his body needed to get into the Dom head space properly. Made all the better by Bucky's presence.


	4. Part Three

Aside from the occasional check in with JARVIS prompted by one of the other Avengers (Steve was positive JARVIS was only forwarding about a fourth of the requests and was grateful) and the food that regularly arrived outside their door whether he had JARVIS order it or not, he and Bucky were left alone. And it was _wonderful_.

In all actuality, they didn't do much. During the war they had both been healthy, active, at least a little kinky (Bucky more so than him usually but he was always more than happy to go along), and open to experimentation so their private times together had never been uninteresting. This time, though, with Bucky's injuries still healing and with other possible trauma from HYDRA, Steve hadn't dared go past kissing. But it had been nice to care for Bucky in a way he hadn't before.

They spent a lot of time simply cuddling, just tracing shapes on each others skin or, Steve's new favorite activity: combing Bucky's hair with his fingers. He loved just murmuring to his soldier, and even better sometimes Bucky told stories in return. He even talked about his time with HYDRA, stuff he hadn't been able to mention since their reunion. They shared lazy baths and Steve got to feed him every meal by hand. It was almost like spending three days in just aftercare, but neither of them minded.

Getting to spend so much time in his head space had done wonders for Steve's temperament. He hadn't realized how out of order he had been; even the thought of dealing with a sleep-deprived Tony didn't seem like that big of a deal anymore. Best of all, Bucky was healing quickly (not unexpectedly) and after three days it was about time to get both of them out of their drops.

Steve woke him up gently, to an immediate objection in the form of a groan and Bucky burying his head into Steve's torso. Steve couldn't help chuckling; it was so reminiscent of the Bucky before the war. "Come on, Buck, time to get up." He insisted gently, careful to keep his voice light and not to let it sound like a command.

Bucky grumbled nonsensically but shifted some more until finally he flopped over into the space next to Steve. His glare was slightly murderous, but Steve could only smile. He'd actually missed seeing a grumpy morning Bucky, even if his glare now was a little more Winter Soldier-esc. He stroked Bucky's hair and immediately Bucky relaxed into the touch. _"A new trigger, good to know."_ Steve silently noted.

Slowly Bucky opened his eyes again and this time his eyes were clear but confused. "Steve? What... happened?" He asked quietly.

"How much do you remember?" Steve asked in return.

"I was… HYDRA stuff was affecting me. I was doing my usual thing, in the bathtub, but JARVIS was talking to me. I… tried to go somewhere?" He offered and Steve nodded, still running his fingers through Bucky's hair.

"I was watching a movie with the others when JARVIS told me to come up here, that you needed me. When I got here you had stabbed yourself three times in the legs and was trying to walk." Steve explained and Bucky nodded.

"Why did JARVIS call you? I told him not to let anyone in." Bucky questioned.

"I know, but Bucky, what you were feeling? HYDRA didn't cause that. It's your Designation. Like how Thor is a Dominate? And Clint a bottom. And…" Bucky stopped him by pressing his metal fingers to Steve's mouth.

"And I'm what?" Bucky asked.

"A submissive, and even as a masochist stabbing yourself in the leg wasn't really going to help you drop." Steve informed him.

"A masochistic sub?" Bucky mumbled. It wasn't directed at Steve, he knew that; it was Bucky's memory pulling at him. Showing him something he had forgotten.

"You're my submissive, to be more specific. At least you were during the war, after I became a Dom. You didn't have one before me as far as I know." Steve added.

Bucky was quiet, contemplative for a few minutes. "I... remember that, I think. We'd nick handcuffs from the MP and use clothes as a blindfold or a gag. And we used clothespins. We broke a cot once." He added with a laugh that immediately put a huge smile on Steve's face.

"We did." Steve confirmed and Bucky's eyes returned to him. The mood sobered quickly.

"So what does this mean?" He asked quietly.

Steve let out a breath and his fingers paused in their stroking. "It means whatever you want it to mean, Bucky, except you are not allowed to drop yourself ever again." Steve warned. It was pushing it, bordering on a dominant command, but Bucky just shifted closer to him, resting his head on Steve's lap. It was a good sign that Bucky was fully out of the drop now.

"So... if I said I wanted to find a different Dom?" He finally asked and Steve's hand withdrew from Bucky's hair.

"I wouldn't like it and they'd have to be thoroughly checked out, but if it's what you really want I'll respect it." It physically hurt to say, but HYDRA had taken enough choices from Bucky. Steve wasn't going to take this one from him too.

Bucky shifted, twisting to look up at Steve. "And if I say I want you?" He asked softly.

Steve smiled and set his hand around the back of Bucky's neck, lacing his fingers into the brunette's hair (which was so much easier with it long like this), and tugging just a little. Enough Bucky's breath caught and he melted into Steve's grip, letting him take control of his head. Steve led Bucky up until he was straddling Steve's lap and Bucky's neck was conveniently right by his mouth. Bucky's arms lay limp over his shoulders and not an ounce of fight was in his spine.

"Then I'm going to take excellent care of my good little soldier." He purred against Bucky's skin, which produced a full body shiver and Steve could hear Bucky's heart rate jump. Bucky relaxed against him further, placing his head on Steve's shoulder until he was taking basically all of Bucky's weight. Not that he minded, not in the slightest. "Would you let me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, yes, sir, please yes." Was the pleading immediate response. Steve placed a kiss on Bucky's neck, which quickly turned into nibbling and sucking until Steve was sure there was a mark (even if it wouldn't last long) and Bucky was squirming in his lap. There was very little between them, since they both only wore underwear.

But then Steve caught sight of the bandages on Bucky's thighs and sighed. "Alright, come on. No more today." He insisted.

"Please?" Bucky begged and Steve nearly broke.

"You are still healing, Buck, and the others haven't seen us for over three days. At the very least, Bruce should take a look at those wounds to make sure they're healing correctly." Steve added firmly. For both Bucky and himself.

Bucky moaned but moved back until he could look Steve in the face. He was pouting and looked so reminiscent of the Bucky Steve grew up with that it brought him flashbacks. "Fine." Bucky finally conceded and slowly he got up.

Steve was quick to follow and caught him when his legs gave out. "Easy there, I've got you." He assured gently. Bucky let himself be led to the closet and they got dressed slowly. "Hey, J, raise the lockdown and blackout will you? And let the others know we're heading down and that we need to see Bruce." Steve requested.

"Happily, sir." JARVIS replied warmly and the tint on the windows lifted. Steve and Bucky both paused, Bucky's arm still laying over Steve's shoulder and Steve's arm still wrapped around Bucky's waist, to look at the view outside. When Steve felt eyes on him he glanced at Bucky, who was staring at him with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Stevie." He said softly and Steve kissed his temple.

"Thank you, Buck." He replied. They stayed like that for a while, content, silently watching the trees sway in the wind and further away the clouds rolled over the New York City skyline.

"Please forgive the interruption, but Sir is demanding rather insistently that you both 'hurry up and get down here for breakfast before we're all ninety'." JARVIS deadpanning Tony's no doubt enthusiastic request sent both super soldiers into fits of laughter.

Finally Steve recovered first and kissed Bucky's head once again. "Let's go eat." He said and Bucky nodded, wrapping his arms around Steve a little more possessively as they left the room. Not that Steve minded in the slightest. He was Bucky's just as much as Bucky was his and he was well aware how privileged he was to be saying that again.


	5. Part Four: A Prequel

During the raid on the Azzano base had Steve felt so confident, so sure of what he was doing. But now, as their surprisingly long procession (Steve's enhanced brain had quickly tallied up almost 400 men early on) slowly made its way through the woods, he felt unsure. And he couldn't help glancing at Bucky every four seconds.

The brunet looked... fine, actually. Steve had tried to get him to ride on or in the tank because Bucky had probably been through worse than most of the men here but, stubborn as always, Bucky had refused. And Steve had to admit that maybe he'd overestimated how hurt Bucky had been; he was stable on his feet, there was no shuffling to his steps, he held the gun in his hands steady, and every time Steve met his eyes the brunet smirked at him. There was something haunted in his eyes that hadn't been there before, but since he was still trying to wrap his head around how _blue_ Bucky's eyes actually were Steve thought he might just be misreading it.

They walked for a long time and more than once Steve caught Bucky twisting behind them to look at the men. His eyes flicked over the soldiers quickly, taking in the details that Steve didn't know to look for because he was obviously searching for something. Or keeping an eye out for something. His looks were getting longer and longer as they traveled. Finally Steve heard him sigh and the brunet caught his arm.

"Steve." He started. Steve looked at him and waited for him to speak. "We should stop. Take a break, let the men regroup, take care of their injuries, and rest." He said and Steve nodded.

"Okay. Um… what… how do…?" Steve muttered and Bucky just smiled. He pat Steve arm, swung the gun around to his back, and pulled himself up onto the tank with relative ease.

He knocked on the lid, which opened and he said "we're stopping." The tank slowed as Bucky straightened and got into a position standing on the back where most everyone could see him.

"Company, halt!" He called sharply, over the noise of them traveling. Maybe it didn't reach all the way to the last in their procession, but everyone stopped quickly enough and stayed quiet, waiting for Bucky to speak. "We're taking a rest. Three hours. Medics, tend to everyone you can. The rest of you, find your squads and stick together. Help each other out." He said. Nobody moved for a few moments and Bucky scowled. "What, are you waiting for an engraved invitation? Move." Buck ordered.

Steve was just the tiniest bit impressed when the soldiers jumped into motion at the order. They formed little groups, most were five to seven, and sat down in individual circles. Bucky jumped off the tank and pat Steve's arm again with a smile on his face. "You can stick with my squad for now, Steve." He said and Steve nodded.

Before he had a chance to ask Bucky anything, the brunet had moved away. He started making his way through the groups, directing medics and putting the smaller squads or individuals together. Steve settled against the now stopped tank from which most of Bucky's squad were climbing out and watched.

He was used to being a wallflower while Bucky socialized, but this was a different situation. Bucky looked at ease in a way he hadn't while doing this kind of thing back home, and it was obvious that almost everyone knew and respected him. They smiled and shook his hand, spoke in brief conversations as he checked on them. He even helped tend to a few of the minor injuries. Steve sighed softly and slumped against the tank further.

"You asked about him back at that factory, right? Do you know him?" A voice, one of the men from Bucky's squad who Steve had met at the cages, asked. Steve glanced at him. It was the Asian man, from Fresno.

Steve nodded. "We grew up together. He's my best friend." Steve informed him.

"Was he always like this?" The Asian man nodded towards Bucky. Bucky was smiling warmly at someone and saying something that made the group laugh. Steve couldn't help but marvel for a moment that only a few hours ago Bucky had been tied down and delirious, looking very much like he was edging towards death, and now he was smiling like that. It was slightly baffling, but Steve was too grateful to worry about the miracle of it.

"Yeah, pretty much. He's good with people." Steve offered, glancing at the Asian just long enough to answer before turning his attention back to Bucky. The brunet was fine, but Steve couldn't help worrying that soon he might not be. They'd come too close to losing each other already for Steve to be willing to take that chance.

The Asian man huffed a laugh. "He's more than that. He's the best sergeant we have in the company and honestly it's a surprise he hasn't been promoted higher yet." He said.

Steve couldn't help smiling, feeling proud of Bucky for that. "He's always been magnetic like that." Steve agreed. The others who'd been in the cell with the Asian man had grouped up behind him and they were all watching Steve. "You're his squad then?" Steve asked.

This time the man in a cap answered. "We are. And you are?" He asked.

"Oh. Sorry, Steve Rogers." He introduced quickly as he held out a hand. Which they shook. "Captain America is my stage name." He added, because he had a feeling they were going to ask.

"Oh, so you're Sarge's Steve. You're not what I expected. I'm Dugan." The man in the cap said as he shook Steve's hand.

"He's mentioned me?" Steve asked and the man laughed.

"Mentioned, no. He talked about you _all_ the time. Especially after he got sick." Dugan added and that made Steve frown.

"Sick?" He repeated.

The Asian man nodded. "Very. He probably caught it before we got captured, but _we_ didn't even know until almost a month in. That or it was really bad. We tried to look after him, keep the guards from knowing. At night, especially after he got feverish, he'd say your name over and over. Even made us promise to look after you more than once." The Asian man glanced at Bucky again and sighed.

The man who had told him about the isolation ward back at the factory continued the story. "A few days shy of a month after our capture, so far as we could tell, we were on the factory floor and he just start coughing and couldn't stop. He couldn't stay standing and even coughed up a little blood. We tried to stop the guards from taking him because they just…" And he also fell silent, a haunted expression on his face.

"They don't cure sick prisoners." Dugan finished for him. "But the sarge wouldn't let us get hurt and that scientist must have seen the exchange because he took him to the isolation ward instead of letting the guards take him to the yard. Honestly, none of us expected him to still be alive, let alone cured." Dugan admitted.

Steve looked at Bucky again but could see no evidence of his illness. As if feeling Steve's gaze Bucky glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. Steve smiled and much to his surprise Bucky quickly signed 'you lot should be resting' with his hands. It had been ages since they'd used sign language (a precaution Bucky had thought of when they were young in case Steve lost his voice or hearing at some point) and it took Steve a few moments to figure out what he had said.

'So should you' Steve countered before he nodded towards the open space near their group. Bucky waved off his concern immediately and turned back to the group he had been talking to. "Let's get some rest. That was the whole point in stopping, after all." Steve suggested after shaking his head.

The others quickly set up their makeshift campsite and Falsworth (they had introduced themselves during the process) was asleep almost as soon as his head was on the ground. Steve actually wasn't all that tired, despite having been up all night. It was another side effect of the serum. He would go a few days without sleeping and then make it all up in one long rest without feeling tired. He was still getting used to it.

Just like him, the others in the squad kept an eye on Bucky who seemed to move tirelessly through the mostly seated groups. He'd barely even stopped moving since they'd called halt and Steve was starting to get worried. But he wasn't sure what to do about it. After a while Dugan sighed. "I'm going to have to get him, huh?" He muttered. He sounded a little… Steve almost wanted to call it upset or disappointed. Jones squeezed Dugan's arm.

"You're the only one who can." Jones said and Dugan nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The man got up, brushed off his knees which didn't actually have any dirt, and then slowly wove his way towards Bucky.

Steve watched him and then looked at Jones and the others. "What's he doing?" Steve asked.

Morita looked at Steve for a moment before he answered. "You know the sarge is a submissive, right?" He questioned and Steve nodded. "Well, when he gets like this, too focused on everyone else to realize he needs rest too, Dugan will put him into the headspace a little and get him to take a break. Helps him to sleep better, too, when Dugan makes it an order."

"Dugan is a Dominant?" Steve asked, because that was the first reasonable question that came to mind of the multiple swirling around in his brain. He wasn't helped by the possessive red rush that made it hard to think clearly, especially since he was still getting used to being a Dominant.

"Yes. The rest of us are Neutral or Tops, Caretakers, etcetera. There are very few Submissives or Littles in the army so it helps them both." Jones explained.

Steve nodded before he looked back towards Bucky and Dugan. They'd been talking, but now Dugan had a hand around the back of Bucky's neck and Bucky looked almost dazed, swaying slightly like he was about to fall over. Dugan led him back to their group with the hand on his neck. Steve almost said something but Dugan shook his head briefly so Steve shut his mouth. The Dominant part of his brain (that, for the most part, had been basically dormant up until now) was angry, possessive because Bucky was supposed to be _his_, but Bucky needed rest so Steve wasn't going to interrupt.

"Lay down, sarge." Dugan insisted and Bucky did. Very near Steve, the blond was pleased to note. Dugan knelt near his head and added "Rest." in a firm tone.

"Not tired." Bucky mumbled, but his objection lacked it's usual spine. The tone sent a shiver through Steve's body in a way he couldn't ever remember feeling.

Dugan sighed softly then touched the back of Bucky neck again, briefly, before bringing his hand up and tugging on Bucky's hair. It wasn't rough, but Steve heard Bucky's soft inhale as his head bent back to follow the pull. It also exposed his throat and the little bit of disagreement that had been in his face disappeared, replaced by something almost blissful. "And your Dom is telling you to sleep. Are you going to disobey an order?" Dugan asked, more firmly than before.

"No, sir." Bucky sounded sleepy this time and his expression was loose: relaxed and dazed and still bliss-ed out. Dugan let go of the grip he had and ran his fingers through Bucky's hair as the brunet curled up into a ball.

"Good." Dugan said with a slight purr and by the time the man had sat down himself Bucky was asleep.

"That's was… impressive." Steve finally offered softly, so he didn't accidentally wake Bucky back up. There were other words the more possessive part of him really wanted to use, but he held them back.

Dugan glanced at Bucky and shrugged. "It works and it helps him sleep. But I'm not a Sadist so no matter how much he tells me it's fine I don't particularly like hurting him. But sometimes it's the only way to get his attention when he's in the headspace." Dugan offered casually.

"I've actually never seen him like that." Steve admitted. "It surprised me."

"Surprised all of us too when he told us. We thought he was Neutral or a Caretaker, maybe. But it was actually his idea, me using my Dom voice to get him to sleep when the nightmares got to be too much." Dugan answered.

Steve looked at Bucky again. He was sleeping and while his expression was a little tense Steve didn't want to wake him up. They'd have to talk once they got back to base, because Steve knew now more than ever that he wanted to be Bucky's Dom. To be able to help him. And because if he didn't at least ask and get a rejection he might end up losing control of the possessive demon he could feel stirring in his mind. He almost wished he could just shove it aside, but when it came to Bucky he was willing to do anything.


	6. Chapter Five

Steve couldn't help the adrenaline coursing through his veins that was making him bounce on his toes. They were about to head out to destroy the first HYDRA base on their map and Steve didn't think he could be more eager. He glanced at Bucky and paused. His friend, his _submissive_, looked worn and tired. He was staring blankly at the rifle lying on his cot and didn't look like he was even there mentally. "Buck?" Steve asked gently, and the brunet jolted.

"Hm?" He quickly looked at Steve, a fake casualness in place on his face long before their eyes met.

Steve stepped closer and lightly set his fingers against the back of Bucky's neck, traced his spine. It still amazed him how that simple touch changed Bucky's whole body. He slumped slightly, like all his muscles had gone lax, and bowed his head, often tilting it towards Steve and exposing more of the skin under his fingers. Steve shifted his grip to hold the back of his neck properly and Bucky practically hummed under his hand.

"What's wrong, Bucky?" Steve asked firmly, but gently. He was still getting used to using a dominant tone, but he seemed to be doing alright because Bucky always responded the way Steve wanted him to.

"It's…" Bucky swallowed. "I'm scared." He finally admitted, almost too softly even for Steve's hearing.

"I won't let you get hurt." Steve promised, but Bucky was shaking his head even before Steve was done speaking.

"I'm afraid I won't take a shot, Steve. That I'll miss or won't even notice I need to if my thoughts get too far away." Bucky explained fiercely and Steve stepped closer until he could feel the warmth coming off Bucky's body.

"Hey, Buck, it's okay." Steve promised as he rubbed his thumb across the back of Bucky's neck. "You being there doesn't put us in more danger and we're all capable of protecting ourselves. So it's okay if you miss a shot. And even if that wasn't the case I know you won't miss. Because…" Steve paused, hesitating slightly, before he set his forehead against Bucky's. "Because you're my good soldier, in here or out there, and you've always had my back. Just like I've got yours." Steve promised.

It took a few seconds, but slowly Bucky nodded. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and nodding again. Steve expected him to say something light, maybe even teasing, since it looked like Bucky was pretty much out of the headspace now despite Steve's hand still cradling his neck. But instead he whispered "I'm yours."

Steve had to shove down a jolt of lust that little whispered promise sent through him and squeezed Bucky's neck again gently, before he stepped back. He went to pick up the rifle, but Bucky's hand caught his wrist before he could. Steve met his eyes and Bucky swallowed. "I have a request, sir." He said softly, looking almost meek, and it did nothing to help Steve get his mind back on track for the mission.

"What is it?" Steve asked warmly as he straightened up.

"Draw on me? Here." Bucky held up his left arm and touched his inner wrist. "So if I get lost in my head, I can look at it and ground myself." He explained as Steve reached for his wrist, nodding.

"Okay, Buck." He agreed just as quietly and Bucky slumped like Steve had taken a huge weight off his shoulders. His pen was nearby and he pulled Bucky's arm under his, holding the brunet's wrist in front of him so the drawing would be upright for Bucky too. His soldier was pressed against his back, where Bucky wouldn't be able to see the drawing until it was done.

He sketched quickly, but he was careful not to push too hard. He was uncomfortably aware of how easily he could put the pen tip through one of the fragile veins in Bucky's wrist even by accident. But it didn't take Steve long to finish the drawing and then he turned around, still holding Bucky's wrist. "There. A reminder that you're mine and that you're loved." Steve said. He kissed the mark before he let go.

Bucky slowly pulled his wrist up to see what Steve had done and Steve saw him swallow before he nodded. "It's perfect." He promised and Steve couldn't help smiling. He stepped forward and placed a kiss on Bucky's head.

"Time to go." He reminded and Bucky nodded. The brunet took a breath and immediately the soft edge his submissive headspace gave him was gone. He picked up the rifle with steady hands and smirked at Steve just like he always had before he walked out of the tent first. Steve picked up his shield and only then realized the flaw in his drawing. By marking Bucky with a drawing of the shield and the words 'Property of S.G. Rogers' Steve was never going to be able to hold the actual shield without thinking of his brunet ever again.

"I'm going to leave you behind if you don't hurry up." Bucky warned from outside, mocking and playful in equal measure, and sounding much more like himself. Steve rushed out the door after him. Despite the threat Bucky was waiting right by the door with a smile on his face, and Steve didn't miss the way he caressed his wrist with his opposite thumb as they started walking.


	7. Chapter Six

Steve had nothing but respect for most of the Europeans he came into contact with. They were strong people who had been through a lot, more than most of the Americans overseas. But the particular group who had joined them for this mission… Steve had gotten a negative impression of the assisting British squad from the very start. They clearly weren't HYDRA so Steve didn't have any valid reason to send them immediately packing, but he just knew things weren't going to end well. He turned out to be half right.

The _mission_ had been a success. The HYDRA base had been destroyed and they'd even managed to get some information about another couple of others in the area they hadn't known about. The mood in their camp was good, but shortly after dinner Bucky had stepped away from them all. It had become the normal thing for him to do, to isolate himself for an hour or two after dinner. Steve hated letting Bucky out of his sight for that long and he was positive now that the serum had made him more possessive than the standard Dominant, but Bucky still came to _him_ every night. Let Steve hold him and soothe him through the nightmares and order him back to sleep when necessary. So he would push down his possessiveness for long enough to let Bucky have the time he needed to himself.

Roy Donovan, the Englishman in charge of the other squad, had noticed Bucky's exit too and Steve half expected him to make a comment based on the expression on his face, but he didn't. That didn't help settle the unease rising in Steve's chest, but as their evening continued fairly normally Steve could only hope his instincts were wrong. He was in a debate with one of the other Englishmen about what counted as a pancake (Steve firmly believed the English version was not worthy of the title) and only noticed Donovan's exit out of the corner of his eye.

He had assumed the man was going to bed. He wouldn't be the first of the evening and pretty much all of the camp was winding down for the night at this point. He couldn't say what it was other than a gut feeling that made him get up about five minutes later and head in the same direction Donovan had gone. The tents had just given way to the edge of the clearing in which the camp had been established when Steve heard it.

Donovan talking over a high pitched whine, almost like an animal in pain. Except he knew it was Bucky making that noise. He bolted forward and his vision was nearly flooded with red at the sight that greeted him. Bucky was on his knees at Donovan's feet, left hand trapped under Donovan's shoe while the Englishman's hand was yanking so hard on Bucky's hair the brunet's whole body was straining upward to try and lessen the pull. Bucky was pale, shaking and almost gasping with tears on his cheeks. Donovan was spitting something obviously derogatory at him, but Steve couldn't hear what over the buzz in his ears.

Steve snapped Donovan's offending wrist in one smooth strike before he kicked the man back several feet with a snarl. He wasn't capable of words. The anger made any attempt at speech get lodged in his throat and come out as a growl. He put himself between Donovan and Bucky, every muscle in his body alight with the need to protect his sub. He made a conscious effort of focusing so he could understand what Donovan was saying.

"What is your problem?! He's just a dumb, poorly trained sub playing soldier. He doesn't deserve to be here." Donovan spat as he sat up and cradled his broken wrist to his chest.

Steve still couldn't form proper words, but luckily someone else spoke up for him. "If you think that then you don't understand in the slightest what it means to be a Dom." Dugan declared and Steve slowly became aware that the Howlies had all joined them, forming up protectively around Bucky and showing their support for Steve.

"Or what it means to be in the military, either, for that matter. Because Bucky is the best sergeant on the front lines and if you want to mess with him you will bring down the wrath of everyone in the 107th, on top of us Commandos." Morita added. Donovan actually looked slightly frightened as he looked at their faces.

Steve felt something brush against the back his pant leg and quickly looked down. Bucky had reached out with his uninjured hand to grasp at Steve's pants. He could barely make a fist and his whole body was trembling. Steve's rage flared brilliant red all over again, but this time it was tempered by the knowledge that his sub needed him, was pleading for him without words.

Steve didn't hesitate to scoop Bucky up into his arms and immediately his sub pressed his face into Steve's shoulder. Steve didn't think Bucky had ever trembled this hard, not even during their escape from Azzano, and he held Bucky as tightly as he dared. "I've got you, Buck." He promised softly.

Bucky's whimper was almost a sob and it wrenched at Steve's heart. Steve sent one last glare at Donovan and warned "There will be repercussions for this" before he walked away. He was more grateful than ever that he had his own tent (that he always shared with Bucky) as he gently lowered the brunet to the cot. Bucky clung to him desperately when Steve pulled back and Steve tried to gently shush him.

"Hush, I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." He swore quietly as he rubbed Bucky's back. The brunet's legs were wrapped tightly around him, Bucky's heels pressing into his back, and Steve ignored the slight twinge in his knees from the hard ground he was kneeling on.

"Promise?" Bucky whispered and Steve nodded.

"Promise. I'm yours and you're mine. To the end of the line, remember?" Steve reminded and Bucky nodded as his whole body shuddered. Even his inhale shook and that told Steve how close to crying Bucky really was. "Shh. I've got you, my good soldier." Steve practically purred and the emphasis on the endearment had an immediate effect.

Bucky slumped against him, almost nuzzled against his neck. "Am I really good?" Bucky finally whispered, almost whimpered, and Steve couldn't help tensing.

He pulled back to look at Bucky's face, despite a whine from the brunet. Bucky's face was totally serious, lost and confused and unsure and so very vulnerable. Steve immediately wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and the touch seemed to help ground Bucky. "Why are you asking that?" Steve finally questioned.

"He said…" Bucky faltered, but Steve already knew who his brunet was talking about. "I'm disobedient and cheeky. I only follow orders in the field and subs shouldn't be soldiers, let alone snipers. I don't deserve a rank, not meant for one or I wouldn't be a sub-"

Steve cut him off by kissing him. It was brief and chaste, but Steve set his forehead against Bucky's once he pulled back and they spent a moment breathing the same air. "Stop that. Right now. Those aren't your words, Bucky, and they aren't mine either. Did you forget who you belong to? Whose opinion really matters?"

"Of course not, sir, but…" Bucky started to object and Steve tugged the hair at the back of Bucky's head. His brunet gasped weakly and his eyes fluttered.

"There's no 'but'. You are mine, my good soldier. My incredible soldier." Steve loosened the grip he had in Bucky's hair and started combing his fingers through it instead. "How many lives have you saved, Bucky? How many times have you saved me alone with that rifle of yours? How many soldiers have you talked out of doing something dumb that would have gotten them killed? How many times have you given up rest, given up medical attention, given up food or blankets, just so that the rest of us don't suffer?" Bucky didn't say anything and Steve tugged on his hair again. "I want an answer, soldier."

"I don't know, sir." Bucky answered, and while he was still very clearly in a submissive headspace he sounded less shattered.

Steve made sure Bucky met his eyes before he spoke again. "It's a lot, Buck. More than anyone could ever expect of you. You're a good man and a good sergeant. No matter what anyone else tells you. Don't forget that." Steve insisted and Bucky nodded.

"I'll remember, sir." Bucky practically whispered and Steve smiled. He set his hand against Bucky's cheek and was briefly surprised when, unlike last time he'd touched Bucky like this, his hand was more than big enough to cradle Bucky's face. Bucky leaned into the touch, his expression much calmer.

"And I like your cheekiness. Always have." Steve added and Bucky actually cracked a small smile. He didn't say anything, though, as Steve ran his thumb over Bucky's cheekbone gently. "Alright. Let me see that hand." He insisted.

Bucky held up his left hand immediately and Steve looked it over carefully. There was a big patch of red on the back that was growing steadily closer to forming a bruise but for the most part, aside from some soreness while he healed, Bucky should have no trouble using his fingers. Steve flipped it over and carefully brushed away some of the dirt that had gotten into the shallow scratches on Bucky's palm. He was about to get up and get some water to rinse them properly when he noticed the faded mark on Bucky's wrist.

The sketch of his shield he'd drawn almost two weeks ago was barely visible, but it was still there. Bucky shivered when Steve traced the mark. "You didn't wash it off." He commented and Bucky immediately shook his head.

"Was from you, sir. Your claim on me. I couldn't… Didn't want to..." Bucky offered quietly and Steve suddenly couldn't swallow over the knot in his throat. The words he wanted to say lodged themselves in that knot too, so instead he gently placed a kiss on the mark.

"Let's get those cuts clean then I'll draw over it again. We wouldn't want it to fade away now, would we?" Steve asked warmly and Bucky immediately shook his head, a small smile playing on his own lips.

"No, sir." He agreed and Steve kissed his hand before he stood and led Bucky over to the wash basin by the grip he had on the brunet's wrist. Bucky followed without even the slightest hesitation and Steve couldn't help the rush of rage towards Donovan that reared its head once again because Bucky was _HIS_ good soldier. And no one was allowed to harm something of his.


End file.
